Authors: Cara Crescent
Griffin’s eyebrows popped up. “Good?”
“Mm, oh. It’s horrible.” She swallowed. “But I’m starving.”
He laughed and she paused mid-bite. His whole face changed with a bit of humor. Those green eyes sparkled with mirth and the hard planes of his face softened with his smile.
He handed her the salt shaker. “Where you headed?”
Prudence forced her gaze away, focusing on seasoning her food and taking another bite. “Better. Thanks.” She refused to look at him, but his stare bored into her and her stomach roiled. What did he want? She finished chewing and swallowed. “The settlement out near the spaceport, Diamond Fjord. Why are you following me?”
“Now, don’t go flattering yourself, Angel. I happen to be going the same direction.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. Of course he wasn’t following her. She was nothing. The only reason he might want her was for her gift . . . but perhaps he didn’t know. The way he dismissed her indicated as much. And, as he mentioned, he was armed. If he wanted to attempt to steal from her, food or sex, he could have done so already. Relief washed through her, but a strange surge of disappointment over the fact he held no interest in her soured the small victory. But why would he be interested in her? Chief Payne was a beautiful male and she was . . . alien. Skinny and small-breasted with eyes the color of a day-old bruise. Males never desired her, they coveted the gift she held. Shame of her lack of attributes made her turn away, despite her hunger.
“Here.” He nudged her shoulder and held out a second helping. “Go on. I’m still building up my courage.”
She took his offering with a rueful smile. “I didn’t take you for the squeamish sort.”
“Squeamish, no. Guess I’m waiting to make sure you don’t keel over.”
Prudence wheeled around with a gasp.
Chief Payne held up his hands. “A joke. I’m joking.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Jesus, hasn’t anybody ever teased you before?”
She bit her lip and regarded him. His body appeared relaxed and she found no malice in his eyes despite his heartless comment. He was . . . teasing. She remembered watching such activities in school, but had never been the recipient. At least, she didn’t think so. Alfred and Randolph often said mean things, but their eyes never danced with mischief like Griffin’s. “It’s a child’s game to tease, is it not?”
He snorted. “Maybe. But grown-ups do it better.” He winked.
He winked?
Prudence picked up the salt shaker and sprinkled her second piece of meat, eyeing the box of water. There had been a two-ounce packet of water in the med-kit, but she’d drunk that halfway through the day and goddess help her, she was thirsty.
He caught her staring at the small box. “No water until you’re done. We’re sharing it, and the way your face keeps wrinkling up with each bite, I’m betting you’ll be happy to wash the taste out of your mouth.”
What? She thought he would give her the whole box in exchange for half the meat. “You didn’t say we were sharing it.”
“I did.”
Her gaze flicked to the green fruit next to him. “What about the apple?”
“That, too.” His eyes narrowed, hardened. “Half of what you had out, for half of what I had out.”
Interesting how specific he was. Did that mean he had more in his bag? Maybe more water he’d be willing to share later? She bit her lip. “I guess that’s fair.”
“Damn straight, it is.”
She took another bite so she wouldn’t have to respond. Politeness demanded she thank him. The water he offered was worth more than everything in her pack right now. But she feared if she showed him any gratitude, he’d take advantage.
“You know anything about this place?” He finished cooking his first piece and set it on the edge of the stove while he started the second.
“We’re in the Black Desert.”
“That’s original.” He scoffed.
“There were volcanoes in this area at one time. Then Asteria went through a flooding period. The sand is what’s left of the lava flows. That’s why it glitters in the sun.”
“Thanks for the geology lesson.” He shifted, leaning back on one elbow while still keeping his second piece over the stove. “What about the natives? Animals? Plants?”
“They did very little research on Asteria before the Expulsion.”
His scowl was fierce. “Expulsion? Is that what you call it when they throw away half the population?”
The term
was
offensive—bringing to mind a body purging itself of impurities, instead of the mass-exile of human beings. But she didn’t create the term. Deciding against defending herself, she kept the conversation moving forward. “Most of the plant life can be found in the plains and mountain areas. They tend toward darker colors than on Earth—reds, navy blues, blacks.”
“I don’t suppose you know what’s edible and what’s not?”
She shrugged. She had a field guide to Asteria in her pack, not that she’d be sharing that information. Most likely, she’d end up minus a field guide if she did.
“What about life?” He picked up the cooked meat and tore a too-big chunk off with his straight, white teeth. His cheek bulged. “What the hell are Scarecrows?”
His table manners were appalling. “There’s one type of humanoid creature here; the first exploration crews called them Scarecrows. No one knows much about them other than that they’re deadly.”
He reclined back on his elbow, making his shirt lift enough for her to see the dusting of blond hair dipping into his cammies. She jerked her gaze up as he took another giant bite. “Why’s that?”
“Do you always talk with your mouth full?”
“I’m multi-tasking, Angel.” He paused chewing long enough to pouch the food in his cheek and scowl. “I didn’t go after your table manners when you inhaled that first piece.”
Prudence looked away. He was right. She had no reason to take him to task other than he left her feeling unsettled and off-balance. “The Scarecrows murdered the first exploration crew. Second one, too. After that, NASA said the planet was uninhabitable and banned further exploration.”
“Until your hubby came along.”
He started in on his second helping and she busied herself turning off the stove and putting her supplies away. He was correct. Alfred saw no problem with exiling potential enemies of his dream to this inhospitable planet.
“So where are they, these Scarecrows?”
“They live in the mountains where food and water are abundant.”
“You do realize if you keep going in the same direction you’re liable to walk right into them.”
She bristled at his sarcasm. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“Well, seems to me it would’ve been easier on everybody if you offed yourself on Earth.”
She froze, staring into the backpack that contained everything she owned. Maybe she should take exception to his heartless words, but she couldn’t. She could only consider them. On Earth, she had been suicidal. No doubt about it, she’d prayed for death. But when the idea to go to Asteria had entered her mind, all that had changed. She knew the risks—they were as abundant as the individual grains of sand making up the Black Desert. Asteria was by far much harsher than even the most inhospitable places on Earth. The storms were violent. The wildlife aggressive. And the locals, murderous. There was every possibility she wouldn’t survive.
But here, on Asteria, there was every opportunity she might.
“At least I know what I’m getting into.” She shrugged. “You knew they’d transport you, did it occur to you to do a little research before you, uh, purchased your ticket?”
His eyes narrowed into unnerving slits. “There wasn’t time. I would’ve lost my opportunity. I spent all my time between watching my base get fragged and shooting your loving husband searching for my family and researching yours.”
“Maybe you’d have better served your loved ones if you’d continued your search.”
“I am. My brother is here. Committing a high-profile felony was my ticket to continuing my search.” He leaned forward. “Since I’m military, I’ve been tagged. Had I tried to purchase one, they’d have killed me like they did all the other military who refused to work for the U.N.”
All military personnel were tagged with locator beacons so if they went missing in action, they could be found. Still, his reasoning was spurious. “Alfred wouldn’t condone murdering anyone.”
He scoffed. “Yet your beloved signed off on the orders.”
She shook her head. “He wasn’t my beloved.”
“And yet you were always at his public appearances, smiling away like a proud, happy wife.”
As if she’d had a choice. “All I’m saying is the order couldn’t have come from Alfred. Randolph, yes, maybe even one of his commanders, but not Alfred.”
“After everything that’s happened you still can’t see what Alfred was, can you?”
Why was he being so argumentative? She had no control over the Parnells. “I do know what Alfred was. Much better than you ever could. When I say that he didn’t sign off on those orders, it’s not because I agree with his vision or think him incapable of violence. It’s because he wouldn’t sign a kill order. Doing so would go against his fundamental beliefs. Torture, yes. Imprisonment, yes. Banishment, yes. Killing, no. His brother, however, would have no qualms about mass murder. You’d have been better served to shoot Randolph.”
“Yeah, well, hindsight’s twenty-twenty and all. I should’ve killed them both.”
Unbelievable. Did he use his gun to solve all his problems? She shook her head. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I thought—” Emotion choked her. What a fool she’d been. To think of all the time she’d wasted watching his trail. Praying for him. He was as violent and uncaring as the rest. She stood, shouldered her pack and headed out.
Griffin blocked her path. Backed her against a boulder with a few predatory strides. “Finish it.” Her traitorous body responded to his nearness despite the menacing scowl he wore. “You think I’m some lunatic? Some murderous sociopath? Or some dumb soldier who can’t string two words together?”
She shoved against him, but he wouldn’t budge, immovable as the giant rocks jutting out of the sand around them.
“I want to hear you say it.” He scowled. “Who did you think you were sharing a meal with?”
“A hero.”
Griffin staggered back a step. She couldn’t have stunned him more.
And she wasn’t through. Prudence Parnell squared her shoulders and took a step forward, prodding him with her index finger. “I thought you were a Marine.” Poke. “A hero. I thought you shot Alfred in hopes of a more promising future for everybody. But no. You”—she jabbed her finger into his shoulder each time the word “you” crossed her lips—“weren’t sacrificing yourself for a higher cause. I’m sorry for what they did to you, wiring your mouth shut like that, but you could’ve still spoken up at trial. You chose not to. You didn’t care about all the people suffering. All you were thinking about was what you wanted. And in the end, after everything is finished, you made everything worse.”
Something very small and very fragile withered inside him. Had he thought he’d hit rock bottom already? Hell, that had been a little outcropping of pride, suspending him from the big plummet. The force of her accusations crumbled that last foothold, sending him reeling into an abyss of self-loathing.
He hadn’t just failed, he’d made everything worse.
For a few terrifying seconds, the only tangible thing around him was the Lockheed Martin pressed against the small of his back. The metal was warm from the desert and the damn thing stuck to his sweaty skin, taunting him.
You should have died with the rest of your unit. Every breath you’re taking pollutes the air around you, buddy. Do it—stick that warm, sweat-slicked barrel between your lips and squeeze the trigger. You won’t feel a thing.
His hand seemed to agree. Twice he reached for the fucking thing. Twice he dropped his hand to his side. He was a fucking coward—he just wasn’t sure if he was a coward for thinking about blowing his brains all over the Black Desert, or if he was a coward for being unable to rid the world of his sorry hide.
Marines don’t give up. They don’t give in. And they never leave a man behind.
Prudence’s hand flew to her lips and she backed away a step. “I shouldn’t have said that. None of it.” She continued to search his face and if her expression was any indication, she’d read every one of the damning thoughts in his. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
Out of every accusation she’d made in the last five minutes, the sympathy in those eyes of hers was what sent his hackles up. “Oh, no.” He stalked forward, crowding her. “You don’t get to do that. What’s said is said. The thing is,
Angel,
I don’t believe you.”
Her face screwed up in an expression of disbelief. “What?”
He’d be damned if he buy into her lies about Alfred’s innocence. The bastard
had
signed kill orders and he’d personally rewarded those who carried them out. Griffin had been the recipient of one of those damned rewards. And if she was lying about Alfred, maybe she was far more involved in everything than he realized. “You heard me. I think you’re up to this whole stinking mess to your eyeballs. I think you know exactly why I didn’t talk at trail.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“They had my neighbor. If I said anything they didn’t like, they said they’d kill her.”
Prudence lifted her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I don’t buy it. I don’t think you wanted me to succeed, I don’t think you ever thought me heroic but I do think you’re trying to fuck with my head so I don’t continue my mission.”
“What mission? The Marines are gone. The Army, Navy—they’re all gone. Don’t you get it? We’re light-years away from Earth. You failed.
There is no mission.
”
“There’s
my
mission. I’m gonna find my little brother. I’m gonna rally the exiled, acquire a ship and return to Earth to start a revolution. I haven’t failed, lady.
I haven’t even started yet
.”
Her lavender eyes widened with each pronouncement. She pressed into the rough rock behind her as if willing the solid surface to absorb her into its stony embrace. “You’re insane. You’ll never even get close to a ship. The Blue Helmets will shoot you two hundred yards out.”
He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “But they won’t shoot you.”
*****
What was it with men?
Seemed she’d gone from bad, to worse, to diabolical. Alfred wanted her gift. Randolph wanted to intimidate her and steal her gift. Now Griffin wanted to use her in exchange for a ship. And then what?
He’d end up dead and she’d be right back where she started.
Chief Payne possessed an aura of desperation and madness. Today was the first time she’d glimpsed it, and while frightening, she didn’t think any of it was directed at her. Those tumultuous emotions were reserved for himself and seeing him hurting broke her heart a little. Like when that terrifying expression of self-hatred had passed over his face, dimming his eyes and sending a shudder through him. She hadn’t missed the way he had kept reaching for his weapon and with that particular look on his face, she didn’t imagine he had planned to use it on her. No, she didn’t think he presented a direct danger to her, but he intended to hand her over to Randolph and that would be worse.
“I’m not going back.” She must have said those words twenty times if she’d said them once. She’d yelled, cried, pleaded, and she shouted some more.
And Griffin sat there like an immovable, uncaring lump. The most response she’d gotten out of him in the last couple hours were uncivilized grunts. He had his back against one of the crystals, his arms braced on his knees and though he sat motionless with his eyes closed, she had no doubt he was wide awake. She’d been loud enough to wake the dead back on Earth.
She paced. “Chief Payne, I want to talk about this. I. Cannot. Go. Back.”
One sea-green eye opened. “You are turning out to be a typical society miss with your goddamned whining.”
Prudence stared at him in the twilight. A drop of sweat ran down his temple. Her gaze followed it down his chin, his neck, until it disappeared beneath his collar. A shiver raced over her skin. Was he teasing her again? She was an alien to the Earthers; no part of society had ever embraced her. “That’s funny because none of the society misses I’ve met thought I had a lot in common with them.”
It was true. She’d always gotten along better with servants and shopkeepers than any of the women the Parnells mingled with. She was too thin for any of the current fashions to look good on her, which was a check against her. She spent more time staying abreast of current events and studying foreign cultures than keeping on the up-and-up about celebrities and society, which was another mark against her. And she was a hybrid—born of an alien and a base-born Marine—a huge no-no in society’s circles.
He shifted and let out a long, beleaguered sigh. “Ah, what’s-a-matter, the crème de la crème of the world wasn’t good enough for you? Don’t worry, Angel, you’ll be a goddamned celebrity when you get back. Everyone will be vying for an interview with the woman taken captive by assassin Griffin Jude Payne.”
Prudence opened her mouth to defend herself and then snapped it closed. He thought she was one of
them
. She almost laughed, would have had her situation been less precarious. How many years had she spent lamenting society’s antipathy toward her? How many years had she tried to fit in to no avail? And Griffin seemed convinced she was one of them—she could see it in his absolute refusal to even acknowledge her.
Well, this was awkward in a life-or-death sort of way. He wanted to use her to get a ship, but she wasn’t so sure Randolph would take the bait. He may blow them both away. By this time, Randolph must have figured out society followed him because they wanted to, not because of her gifts. He’d realize he had no need of her. But if she told Griffin that, then he’d demand to know about her gifts, which would put her in a whole other kind of jeopardy.
Why were men such horrible creatures?
“Lie down and go to sleep.”
She planted her hands on her hips and glared.
“Lady, you don’t want me to ask again.”
No, she didn’t doubt that for a moment. “You’re a bastard. An absolute bastard.”
His scowl darkened and she went straight to her pack and lay out her sleeping mat. She refused to lie down. She sat on her mat with her back to one of the crystals jutting out of the ground. “Why are you being like this?”
He shook his head and so much time passed, she didn’t think he would answer. When he did, his voice was low and his beautiful eyes filled with pain. “I witnessed everything I loved blown to pieces. Men and women I fought with, risked everything with, gone in one bomb blast. And why? Because they loved freedom more than the ideal of a perfect, unattainable society.”
Sympathy for him overwhelmed her. She was alone in the world. She’d stood on the outside, watching everything in the world change. She couldn’t imagine being in his position, standing in the middle while the U.N. systematically destroyed everything around him.
The thing was, Alfred’s dream had started out innocent enough. The nations had been warring for decades, fighting over resources, religions, ideals. It had become obvious that Earth’s people would not survive much more. When the U.N. stepped in, the nations didn’t have much choice but to bow to their whims. War-torn, bankrupt, and struggling to support their citizens, the nations folded one by one. The problem was, the Parnells’ solution ended up being far more damaging than the problem.
She was staring at proof of that.
Chief Payne was suicidal. She couldn’t mistake his haunted, pain-filled gaze for anything other than what it was. She’d seen that look too many times in the mirror. She’d wounded him when she’d blamed him for making things worse, twisting the knife into whatever guilt he already carried.
Prudence lay down and gave him her back, her heart aching with regret. She’d finally learned to fight back, but in doing so, she’d hurt someone she wasn’t too sure deserved her wrath.
He lay down beside her, trapping her between outcroppings of stone and his body. “The Parnells took everything from me: my brother, my unit, my corps, and my country. I did what I did for them. Not just for a ticket here. And not with any aspirations of being anyone’s hero.”
Maybe he wasn’t the hero she first thought, but he was still the only man who’d made an effort. And no one deserved to experience such pain.
“I want it all back. And you . . . .” He leaned over so his words brushed against her ear, sending shivers over her skin, “you’re going to get it for me.”
Renewed anger burned through her sympathy with the force of a forest fire.
They’d see about that.
*****
Griffin woke to the glare of sunlight probing his lids. The sand was hot beneath his body and he had a crick in his neck from using his pack as a pillow. He stretched and opened his eyes.
“Goddamnittohell!” He jumped to his feet, trying to look in every direction at once.
Prudence was gone.
How the hell had she gotten past him? True, he’d been relying a bit on her realizing she needed his help, but
fuck.
He grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder, scanning the ground for footprints. They’d been all over their campsite last night, so it took several minutes before he found what he needed. There. She was still headed straight into Scarecrow territory. Christ, the woman was stubborn as a mule grazing on stinkweed. Depending on what time she left, she could be miles away already. He set out at a run, his stomach grumbling in protest. He’d intended to share that damned apple with her, but not now.
A hundred yards out, he stopped and swore. He’d thought they were coming out of the desert, but glittering sand spread out before him like a great black ocean for as far as his eye could see. Not even the slightest breeze shifted the sand or cooled his skin today. He had a clear view of Prudence’s footprints headed straight into the wasteland and disappearing into the shimmering horizon where the heat wafted up from the ground.
The fool woman would cook out there with her fair skin and dark hair, she’d already had one hell of a sunburn. By the end of the day, she’d likely have sun poisoning and wish to hell she hadn’t wasted her sole med-wand on him. She had no water. No food.
She was fucked.
Unless you find her in time.
Griffin cupped his hands to his face, trying to see past the glare. The ground was flat and dark as a forest pond. He saw no movement—there was nothing out there to draw his eye. She must have hauled ass last night.
And why wouldn’t she after you told her you were going to use her as a hostage?
He shouldn’t have made the threat. He had no intention of carrying it out. But damn it, what she said last night . . . it hit far too close to home. And as a true soldier, he fought back.
But he never expected her to do anything that might put her life in danger. What the hell was she running from? Him?
He’d be doing her a favor, returning her to Earth. If she wanted to leave Randolph, fine. No law said she had to marry the S.O.B, but wandering around Asteria alone was not a good alternative. Besides, if he had his way, Randolph would be dead soon after they returned and she wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. She could live out her life safe in the embrace of society back on Earth.